Anna's Ghost
by DowagerInTraining
Summary: Anna doesn't believe in ghosts, and refuses to be scared by Daisy before her walk back to the cottage on Hallowe'en. John won't be home until late, but she's certain she will be fine. But when she's all alone back at the cottage, she hears a scratching noise, and a sudden eerie wail...


"I can't believe you're going to walk home on your own tonight."

"What's the matter Daisy? You don't believe in ghosts, do you?"

Anna reached for her hat and scarf, smiling at the agitated cook.

"How can you say that? You of all people? After that night when..."

Daisy's eyes strayed back towards the Ouija board which sat, collecting dust, on the top shelf of the cupboard in the servant's hall.

"Oh come, Daisy, you don't think that was real do you?"

"You mean... it was you? Pushing the thing around the letters?"

Anna paused and told a white fib, to set her friend's mind at rest.

"Yes, it was me."

Daisy's face broke into a smile of relief.

"Oh you... fancy you letting me think that for all that time! I feel a right fool now, like when I was still scared of using electricity, fancy me believing in ghosts."

"There's no such thing Daisy, I promise you. Even on Hallowe'en."

"Well... you just watch yourself going home. We'll send Mr Bates down to your cottage as soon as his Lordship gets back from his dinner."

"No need to hurry. I will be just fine."

With a determined set to her jaw, Anna set off on the long walk home, trying to ignore the little niggle in the back of her mind that reminded her she had not provided one single push to the marker on that board. And if Daisy hadn't... who had?

...

By the time she reached the cottage, she had worked herself into a state. Every hoot from an owl made her jump, and the bushes along the way had seemed full of tangling fingers waiting to grasp at her. The wind whispered in the trees, tugging at the last loose leaves, trailing ghostly sighs into the woods. Anna was relieved to be home.

The cottage was dark, but not too cold. In no time at all, Anna had set the fire to light and started the kettle to boil.

That was when she heard it.

A scratching noise.

At first, Anna wondered if it was a rat. But there were no squeaks, and when she inspected the larder nothing had been nibbled. No smell, no sign of droppings. Definitely not a rat.

Perhaps she had imagined it, she thought to herself, settling down in the arm chair with a mug of cocoa. She reached for her book, determined to wait up until John came in. They'd barely seen each other all day, he'd dashed off on an errand straight after lunch and gone out with his Lordship and wouldn't be back until late.

 _Scratch scratch scratch_.

Alright, that wasn't her imagination. Determinedly Anna was on her feet, searching under the chairs and checking behind cabinets.

 _Scratch scratch scratch._

A sudden draught blew around Anna's ankles. Despite herself, she shivered. The fire flickered ominously, as the wind grew brisk and harsh outside. The window rattled in a sudden gust.

 _Scratch._

 _Scratch scratch._

Anna felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

You're being silly, she told herself. It's just Daisy winding you up, talking about ghosts on Hallowe'en. There's no such things as...

 _SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH._

Anna jumped as the sound became louder. She reached for the fireside poker, feeling better for half a second feeling the cold iron, solid in her hand. But would it work against a ghost?

Don't be silly, there is not ghost...

Then she heard the wail.

 _Oooooooooooooowwww_

 _Ooooooooooeeeeeooooowwwww!_

It was high pitched, eerie, and angry, grating against Anna's nerves. The blood drained from her face, her feet felt numb and frozen to the floor.

 _Scratch scratch scratch scratch..._

 _Ooooooooooooowwwwwww!_

Just at that moment, when her nerves were stretched to breaking, the door rattled and opened. Anna screamed, turned to face whatever demon it was coming through the door. She raised the poker, spun around, only to be confronted with John coming through the door.

"Anna, are you alri... whoa, wait, it's me, calm down!"

Anna dropped the poker and burst into nervous tears.

"Oh sweetheart...!"

In a moment John had crossed the floor and scooped his wife into his arms. For a few seconds she just sobbed into his shoulder, feeling truly safe for the first time all evening.

"Oh John..." she gasped. "There's something in the house... I can hear it scratching, but I can't find anything, and then it screamed, and I thought..."

"You thought what, dear one?"

Anna gulped, looking up at him, suddenly feeling very foolish.

"I thought... it was a ghost. Or a monster. And I was really scared..."

Anna was relieved beyond measure that John didn't laugh at her, although a telltale twitch at the corner of his lips suggested that they might laugh together about this later.

"Well ... we can't have that, can we? Now... dry your eyes. I can solve the mystery of the scratching. I would have been here to help you, but his Lordship's plans changed so quickly tonight, I didn't have chance to unpick the arrangements."

"Arrangements...what...?"

Now completely confused, Anna couldn't work out why John was smiling at her.

"Come and meet our ghost."

Taking Anna's hand, John led her into the kitchen. Crouching in front of the bottom cupboard, over in the corner, he opened the door and spoke softly.

"It's alright... come on... I've got you ... come to me now..."

When he stood and turned around, Anna melted at the sight of the little grey and white cat snuggled in his arms.

"Ohhh! ... Oh, he's lovely..."

John smiled, watching the pleasure and affection chase across Anna's face as she came up to stroke the little creature, who mewed and nuzzled into her hand.

"Has he been in there all this time?"

"Only since this afternoon. I popped him in there with a blanket, and a bit of food. I didn't want him to do any mischief about the house. He was sleeping when I left, but when you came home and switched lights on and started the fire, he must have woken up. I meant to be here, to show him to you when you got home."

"So you were our little ghost, hey puss?"

The cat purred, blinking sleepily at Anna. Gently, John decanted him into her arms. Anna felt the soft rumble against her chest and warmed to him instantly.

"The gardener found him, with his siblings and mother, in the old coach house. He re-homed most of them amongst his children's friends in the village but this little chap was still left. I thought you might like to have him here, to be company in the house when I'm away with his lordship."

Anna's face shone with love, all fear chased away by the strength and gentleness of her husband, and the warm purr of the little cat.

"So," John smiled softly, stroking his wife's hair with one hand, tickling the cat under the chin with the other. "What shall we call him?"

"I think he's named himself tonight," Anna smiled, stroking his ears. "I think we'll have to call him Ghost, don't you?"

"A perfect name, my dear. Quite perfect."


End file.
